A Quiet Moment
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: A post-rescue moment in the Underworld between Emma and Killian.
**Title:** A Quiet Moment
 **Summary:** A post-rescue moment in the Underworld between Emma and Killian.  
 **Spoilers:** Up through 5x12, "Souls of the Departed."  
 **Characters:** Emma Swan and Killian Jones.  
 **Rating/Warning:** K+. Angst and comfort, ahoy!  
 **Disclaimer:** _Once Upon a Time_ and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I'll put everything back the way I found it, cross my heart!  
 **Author's Note:** Crossposted from Tumblr. It's my birthday and I'm giving y'all a present! One that will surely be canon-balled by Sunday but that's beside the point. :) Feedback makes my little day! Enjoy. :)

* * *

She's clingy.

In all the time Killian Jones has known her, Emma Swan has never been what he would describe as clingy. But tonight … tonight she's clingy.

Not that he can blame her. Truth be told, he's clinging to her just as much as she is to him. The two of them have been in constant physical contact – hands held, fingers entwined at the very least – since everyone found him.

 _Everyone_ found him. Emma and Henry and Snow and David and Robin and Regina. They all found him. They all _risked their lives_ to come down here, to rescue him. No one has the faintest idea how to get back to Storybrooke, to the land of the living, but at the moment none of that seems to matter.

All that matters is that they found him.

Much of the rescue is a blur in Killian's mind. He recalls bits and pieces. Emma running at him and holding him with a grip so tight that it brings him immediately to the present. (She's here and it's not a trick and she's _here_.) His nose automatically burying in her hair like so many other embraces. Inhaling deeply, breathing in the faint vanilla scent of her shampoo. Snatches of conversation, his arms being slung over the strong supportive shoulders as David and Robin help him walk. Emma's tight grip on his hand, the sheer relief and joy shining in Henry's eyes. The tenderness on Snow's face, the little relieved smile on Regina's lips that she tries to hide.

But mostly he remembers Emma's voice telling him he would be okay, that she had a plan, that they were … how did she word it? Oh, yes. They were "getting him the hell out of hell."

Only there would be no full escape tonight. No, it quickly became clear after the rescue that everyone had been running solely on adrenaline. The dead may not need to sleep but the living do and they all needed to rest before tackling their next challenge.

By silent agreement, the rescuers and their rescuee decided to hole up in the Underworld version of Snow and David's loft. Once there, Emma healed Killian's wounds as best she could – her magic is truly a wonder – and she and Snow cleaned him up, tenderly wiping away the blood and the grime and the rest of the Underworld's detritus from his skin.

The prince and princess have claimed the Underworld version of their bedroom for the night, Robin and Regina are sharing the sofa, and Henry has made his bed on the floor below them.

Emma and Killian have retreated to the Underworld version of her room and it has not escaped either of their notice that, after some good night hugs from her parents and Henry that were quite a bit tighter and longer than on a normal night and warm good night wishes from Robin and even Regina, they have been purposely left on their own to decompress in private.

They're curled up on her bed, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest with her hand over his heart. Half of his beautiful Swan's heart beats in his chest and he cannot understand how he's managed to deserve any of this, least of all half of her amazing, strong, resilient heart.

And though Killian is no longer dead and he too needs to sleep, he finds he can't. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees dark moments from his past, dark moments that were used to torture him down here. Killing a man simply because he called him a name. Liam dying. Milah dying. Emma disappearing in a cloud of darkness, leaving nothing but a dagger in her wake. The things he said to her in Storybrooke, the way he hurt her, when he was given over to the darkness himself.

It's too much.

Emma, it seems, has vowed to stay up with him despite her own exhaustion. He looks down at her and sees her eyelids fluttering as she fights it for all she's worth. "Sleep, love," he murmurs to her. "You need it."

She stubbornly shakes her head. "You stayed up with me as long as you could every night in Camelot. I'm returning the favor."

And once again he gives a touched smile because what in blazes has he done to deserve someone as wonderful as his Swan? Hell, he still can't believe she traipsed all the way down here with her entire family in tow just to get him.

When he voices that out loud, she shifts upright and looks him in the eye, surprise and gentle sympathy and sheer determination written across her features. "I couldn't leave you down here any more than you could leave me living a memory-less life in New York. I came here to save you."

He smiles at the echo of his words to her back in New York and, blinking back tears, presses a kiss to her forehead.

She closes her eyes against the kiss and when she opens them again, she smiles gently at him. "We all came here to save you." She nods towards the stairs, indicating the five people sleeping below them. "I didn't ask any of them to come, you know. They all came because they wanted to. Hell, Henry pretty much told us he was coming whether we agreed to let him come or not. And yes, they're here in part for me but they're here for you, too. We all love you, Killian. We _all_ wanted to save you."

Overcome with emotion, it takes Killian a couple of minutes to swallow the lump in his throat and find his voice. And he could continue the emotional line of questioning – because how has he managed to deserve not only his Swan's love but the love of everyone else as well? – but Emma's exhausted and she's trying her hardest to comfort him, to get him to believe in his own self-worth, just the way he did her. And so, figuring Emma will appreciate a joke, he says, "I suppose I should be thankful that the six of you are the most obstinate people I've ever met."

She chuckles as she blinks back tears of her own, tears of happiness and relief and gratitude. "Damn straight, you should be."

They settle back down, resuming their original positions. They don't talk but they don't need to. He can feel her warmth as she snuggles into him, a blissful warmth that reminds him that she's here and she's real and that she's found him and that they're together. She can feel the steady beating of their shared heart under her hand on his chest, the steady beating that reminds her that he's alive and he's safe and that she's found him and that they're together.

And right now, in this quiet, comforting little moment, it's enough.


End file.
